


Five Years Ago

by quiesce



Category: MASH (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-02-15
Updated: 2007-02-15
Packaged: 2017-10-10 23:38:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/105706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quiesce/pseuds/quiesce
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For the <a href="http://lordessrenegade.livejournal.com/147635.html">International Interfandom Day of Making Out</a>.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Five Years Ago

**Author's Note:**

> For the [International Interfandom Day of Making Out](http://lordessrenegade.livejournal.com/147635.html).

Five years ago, if you told Hawkeye he'd be in Korea, he would have laughed. The war was over -- Germany lost -- so what reason would an Army surgeon have to visit Asia?

Five years ago, if you told him he'd think nothing of quick make out sessions in between patients, he'd have scoffed. It was unprofessional, unsanitary, and a million other "un" things.

Five years ago, if you said that a good number of those make out sessions were with other men, he would have thought you were crazy. Hawkeye was a ladies' man, through and through.

Today, the world is at war yet again and Hawkeye's unit is based outside a village whose name he couldn't have pronounced five years ago, let alone spell. The sounds of Korean wildlife are now as recognizable to him as the sounds of the choppers.

Today, he knows that concerns of sterility and propriety go out the window when you work a twelve hour shift with few breaks in the flow of patients, grab an hour of sleep, and are then woken up to do it all again. When the casualties temporarily slow to a trickle, you make the most of it and sometimes that means grabbing the nearest person for a quick tangle behind the mess tent, stained scrubs and all.

Today, there's so much insanity in Hawkeye's life that the fact that sometimes the lips that kiss him back, the tongue that explores his mouth and the hands that sneak under his uniform belong to a man doesn't even begin to register. Out here you take love -- or, barring that, an escape -- where ever you can find it.


End file.
